Her gaze didn’t waver. “The fact remains,” she said softly, “I shot your son. I may have killed him. He could still die, Corbett. And I will be the one who killed him. How could you ever forgive me for that?”
He couldn’t answer her. Shaken to his very core, Corbett finally did the thing he’d told himself he could not do. Must not do. He touched her lips with his finger to silence her, then with great care and gentleness, folded her into his arms.
Carefully…gently…not because of the pain of his fractured ribs-he no longer felt that-but because his need to hold her was so fierce, so intense, so terrible it frightened him.
And that was something he couldn’t let her, or anyone, know.
Chapter 5
Time passed. Lucia had no idea how much, only that she willed this moment to go on and on, knowing the sharp, bright stab of happiness was too intense to live beyond that…a single moment, knowing whatever powerful emotion had moved Corbett to embrace her would pass, and that when it did the joy inside her would turn to equally intense pain.
And so her reasoning mind bolted for cover like a terrified bunny huddled in darkness, believing it meant safety, while her tired body snuggled into the dangerous haven of his arms.
“Lucia…” His breath sighed unevenly through her hair, and she felt his fingers there, too.
Wonder lay on her like soft wool as she lifted her face to the warm hollow of his neck and shoulder. She felt the beat of his pulse on her lips, felt his heart thump against the thick bandage wrap that lay between his chest and hers. She felt the textures of the bandage with her palms, and…when had she put her arms around him? She felt his hand on her back, moving slowly downward to her waist, then below, felt the pressure, subtle at first, then more insistent, pressing her closer…closer.
Someone was shaking. Was it her? Was it him? Panic lurked. A whimper threatened.
Obeying only that directive and stubbornly blind to all consequences, she moved her head, brushing her lips over his skin, savoring the feel of it, the warmth and smoothness, then the roughness of beard, the hard ridge of jaw. She heard his breath catch, then stop. She held hers…and his mouth came searching. Her lips parted, and his breath flowed gently over them. She held herself still…
In the stillness they both heard it: the rhythmic thumping, too firm and steady to mistake for their galloping heartbeats.
Lucia’s eyes flew open in time to see the helicopter’s shadow flit across the skylight. She felt Corbett’s body stiffen. He lifted his head and his hands came gently but firmly to grip her shoulders and hold her away from him.
“Sounds like our ride has arrived,” he said, and his voice had a ragged edge she’d never heard before. Just for an instant his eyes burned into hers, before she nodded and stepped back, fingers pressed to her lips, trapping the tiniest of whimpers behind them.
“I’ve left some clothes for you-here on the dressing table. They’ll be too big-especially the boots, but they’ll keep your feet warm. Put on both pairs of socks-that should help.” As he spoke, he was reeling in the trailing end of bandage.
She took it from him, carefully avoiding his eyes while she brought the end of the bandage to the one just below his collarbone, tied and pulled the knot tight and tucked in the ends. “My things…”
“Yes, of course. I imagine you’ll find them on board before you.”
She lifted her eyes in an unspoken question, but they got no farther than his mouth, captivated by the lips that a moment ago had been a breath away from kissing hers. Now they seemed like the perfectly sculpted lips of a classical statue. That they moved when he spoke seemed magical to her.
“It’s quite likely Adam ordered the chopper diverted to your flat, as backup in case of unexpected… developments.”
She nodded. He touched her arm and turned to go, then hesitated. She held her breath, but at that moment from the bedroom came the polite trill of a telephone. He said, “Quickly…please.” Then went out, closing the dressing-room door behind him.
Alone, enveloped in the scent that was so evocative of him it made her ache, Lucia let her defenses crumble. Eyes closed, she groped for something solid to hold on to and found the dressing table…gripped it and leaned on her hands while the shudders raced through her body, responses to emotions too overwhelming even for tears.
Since she was too tired to do either, she opened her eyes and found the neat pile of clothing Corbett had laid out for her: Black knit pants, ivory wool turtleneck pullover, black-and-ivory ski jacket. Apres-ski boots and two pairs of soft, ultrawarm socks. Thermal-lined gloves, and even a black woolen cap to keep her ears warm. He’d thought of everything.
A small hiccup of laughter burst from her as she picked up the cap and touched it to her lips, then slipped it over her head and her still-damp hair and carefully adjusted it to cover her ears.
“Hello, Edward,” Corbett said, cradling the phone awkwardly between jaw and shoulder while he picked up the pullover he’d laid out on the bed.
“Good gad, Corb, I just heard. Are you all right? What the devil’s going on? They said you’d been
“Yes, well, good luck I was wearing body armor, eh?” Corbett’s grin was wry. He pressed the speaker button and put the phone down on the bed, then pulled the shirt over his head. As he eased it over his bandaged ribs, he could hear his brother’s snort of vexation.
“Precautions were taken,” Corbett said patiently, slipping automatically into the placating manner he’d employed with his elder brother since childhood. “Lucia’s fine. I’m fine. Everyone’s fine.”
“Yes, well, Mum’s quite beside herself. Even Apu has been showing signs of concern, if you can imagine it. You might give them a ring, you know.”
“Can’t do it now, I’m afraid. I’ve a chopper waiting. Do me a favor, won’t you, and let them know I’m quite all right, occupational hazard, et cetera…”
“Off again, are you? I don’t s’pose you care to let your next of kin in on where you’re going and when you expect to return?”
“Sorry,” Corbett said, mentally rolling his eyes at the petulance in his brother’s tone, “you know the drill-client privilege and all that.” Though he could and often did lie to his brother without a second thought, he didn’t enjoy doing so. He told himself it wasn’t that he didn’t trust Edward-he did, as much as he trusted anyone. It was just that he was a firm believer in the old adage that the best way to keep one’s secrets was to
“Must be off. I’ll be in touch.” He thumb-clicked the off button, cutting off whatever protests Edward was preparing to make.
Adam crossed the helipad at a jog to where Corbett waited in the wash from the chopper’s rotors, shoulders hunched against the cold, hands thrust deep into pockets of his long overcoat. He withdrew them to clasp Adam’s firmly in both of his and leaned closer to make himself heard about the noise. “How did it go?”
Adam hitched a shoulder and grinned. “Right as rain, mate.”
“No trouble, then?”
“Nothing me and the boys couldn’t handle.”
“Ah,” Corbett said, nodding absently.
“Just got word from the airfield. Citation’s juiced up and waiting for you.”
“Good. You cleared us for Salzburg?”
“Yep. You’re good to go. As soon as-”
Both men turned together as, right on cue, the elevator door slid open. Adam wondered how being gut-shot
